Mutants Innovated
by ThatFreakyXMenFanaticXXXXXXX
Summary: After suffering numerous tragedies and the world on the verge of WWIII the remaining X-men struggle to cope with the drama and heartache that the world brings along.
1. Redemtion will be needed

**Chapter One**

Sweat rolls down my forehead and I can feel heat baking in my skin. I toss uncomfortably in between the sheets while smoke fills my lungs. Croaking and coughing I jolt awake trying to catch my breath, only to find the floor burning beneath me. Frightened I tremble and try to hold back the scream that is lodged in my throat. Petrified by the blazes surrounding me, I sit in watch posters burn into ashes as flames dance across my floorboards. The room slowly becomes covered in thick gray smoke clouds that make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The clouds grow so thick, I can no longer see. I can only hear the faint shrieks of my companions and the sizzling sound of my door crumbling into dust. The ceiling starts to creek and rattle, then the sky starts to fall. Chunks of wood and plaster crash through the roof and melt before my eyes. The falling flames start to create this ring of fire around me. I am frightened and defenseless of the ceiling that seems to be caving in above me. A loud thud comes from behind the wall of fire and the entire room shakes. I am struck with fear, and then I feel a high pitch scream fall off the edge of my lips before I can stop it. I want to run, I want to scream, but I can't. I am paralyzed, fighting for every halfhearted breath.

While the fire grows closer, I grab the satin sheets and wrap them around me, as if it could somehow save me. I seem to be lost halfway in my dream world, half in this chaos. When I am almost indulged by the wall of fire, the room grows cold and the flames turn to ice. Ice shatters across my bed, the silhouette of a man grows through the smoke. "Bobby", I whisper into the thick air. "Rogue what are you doing? We have to go, now!" Bobby coughs. Hearing the urgency in his voice I hastily grab my boots and bag, which are luckily on the floor by my bed side, and follow him through the frozen flames. "Bobby, I…" I stammer, as he breaks my window. A bridge of ice sickles falls from the ledge and descends to the ground, which is full of chattering student looking as stunned as I.

The world seems to pass by me in a blur, before I knew it I saw Storm dashing into smoke clouds screaming Charles, men in armored suits flooding from the mansion into S.H.E.I.L.D. cars that were quickly sent crashing through the iron gates of this once proud institution, and Jean crawling out of the smog covered in gashes and burns just as you the mansion go up in flames.

"Rogue, wake up, it's time to leave," someone whispers, as I drag myself out of this haunting nightmare. I wake to Pyro jamming a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ into my arm and his emerald eyes. "Don't do that!" I screech, jumping out of my seat and punching Pyro in the shoulder. "Sorry" he murmurs, rubbing his arm. "Uggh. What time is it?" I say, trying to adjust to the eerie library lights. "Four-seventeen, we have three minutes to get to your locker and the front door. If not we will be stuck in one of those awkward moments when everyone stares and runs away. So hurry up!" He yells from across the library, walking out of the door.

Reluctantly following, I emerge into the vacant halls of _Howlett High _and join my best friend, Pyro. Suddenly the halls seemed to shrink in size as the dismissing bell roars. Students flood into the hall from every direction and crowd the corridors. Pyro and I do our best to maintain a dull conversation and fade into the swarm of students in the hall. But we both knew what was coming.

Someone will randomly scream, _Mutant_, and point at us. Students and teachers will flee into random classrooms and run towards the lockers, trying to get at least ten feet of distance between themselves and the two genetically impaired outcasts. And as if we were lepers the halls would abruptly become vacant, leaving only me and Pyro, and any of the other mutants who once lived in X mansion. It ALWAYS happens.

Before I knew it we were alone. "You'd think we were contagious" Pyro joked. "It is too bad we aren't, I really like it if there were more than a few freaks in school." I sighed turning the corridor towards my locker."But it's all okay we get to live in a dumpy apartment complex and have cool names. Rogue, Pyro, White Queen, Wolverine… Iceman and Shadowcat" he laughs gesturing to the two of our fellow mutants that are sucking face in front of my locker. "I know, I just get sick of it all sometimes, you know?", now realizing the that Kitty and Bobby were the two morons in front of my locker. I couldn't help but rolling my eyes. There is too much lovey-doveyness in the air, it makes me sick. Don't get me wrong, I like Bobby and all, and Kitty is a little annoying, but at least she's nice, but I just wish that they could keep there "love" to a minimum. Will people ever realize no one wants to see you twirl your hair and see which flavor of lip gloss your new boo likes? Gag! Finding in myself in my train of thought, I loudly (and obnoxiously) cleared my throat. Kitty looks up at me and blushes, and before Bobby could even turn around to say something, Kitty had already grabbed the collar of his shirt and had dragged him away.

I stare blankly at my locker for a moment then start to turn the dial to unlock my locker. When I open my locker Pyro snatches a box of Tic Tacs, and pops a handful into his mouth. Trying to ignore the fact that in his mad dash to my stash of Tic Tacs that Pyro put my locker in disarray, I throw a tube of Burtbee's, my _American: A History_ book, and two boxes of cinnamon Tic Tacs into my locker and slam it shut. "We could make them jealous you know? You and me." Pyro says through a mouth of Tic Tacs. "What?" I mouth searching my bag for my car eyes.

"We could be the ones trying to suck each other's faces off."

"What no, Pyro! Not us! We couldn't. We shouldn't. I shouldn't. You know I couldn't. Why would you even say something like that?"

"Rogue, I am sorry I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to say we could. I am always here for you, for _anything_. Besides you wouldn't hurt me."

I am floored. I haven't ever heard him speak like that. I'm lost for words. I keep trying to open my mouth and say something intelligent, or witty, or hurtful, but I couldn't seem to find anything to say. I just walked with him silently twirling my keys between my fingers. Realizing that he has hurt me with what he said, playfully Pyro pops the keys out of my hands and starts running. "I'm driving!" Pyro yells to me from down the hallway. "St. Jonathan Pyro Allyerdyce!, If you don't come back here this instant and give me my keys back the entire school will find out your real name!" I found myself screaming down the corridor, chasing after Pyro and my keys.

I try and catch my breath as I meet up with Pyro at the end of the stairs. "Where's the car?" he asks dangling my keys in front of my face. Too breathless to run anymore, I just point at the edge of the parking lot. Past the neatly parked sports cars and fancy foreign vehicles, to the collection of old trucks and motorcycles strayed across the gravel lot. I silently trudge to my car, kicking a stone with every step of the way. I look up from my little hockey game and find myself standing in front of my old clunker. A nineteen eighty-seven ford, chipped faded red paint and a dent in the bumper the length of my leg just screams disaster. "After you my lady," Pyro says opening the door to the passenger side. Awaking from my daze, I sink into my torn leather seat and fall back into my daze.


	2. Heartache in a nutshell, in a Nuthouse

**Chapter Two**

The door slams and rattles the car. As I sway back in and forth I emerge from my trance. It's raining, and Pyro is standing outside my window with a umbrella in his hand and a stupid smile on his face. Past his strawberry-blonde hair was a sign which read, _The Rasputin Institution for the Mentally Unstable_. I sigh and step under the umbrella, I suppose it's the best way to say _Nuthouse_. For seven hundred and thirty six days I have thought about this place, thought about Jean.

I love Jean, she is like a sister to me, and the only real family I have ever known. Jean is my best friend, always has been always will, no matter what. It was with her where I wasted away my childhood and discovered the world. We would march around the mansion in our outdated nineteen seventies spandex calling ourselves heroes. Marvel Girl and I would rescue leaves as they fell from trees and protect the fish that swam in the pond from falling raindrops. With Jean I discovered myself and hid away my secrets. She is the reason for everything, my name, my fears, my cautions, even my white hair.

I enter the eerie entrance of the institution. Everything looks the same. The walls are covered in a pale shade of yellow and colorful pictures a hung astray around the room, making it obvious at the attempt to lighten the lingering depression in the atmosphere. Madison, the nurse that has been working here for about two years, is standing at the desk shuffling through clipboards with a hopeless look in her eyes. She smiles at me and hands me a visitors pass then turns around and walks to the two wide doors. She starts to lead me down a million halls, a maze that never ends. She tells me what's been happening with Jean. How she can't be left alone, because she destroys everything in her path. How she screams in the night and scares away every other living being. Nothing has changed. The nurse gestures to the door and turns around to the twisting hallways.

I can feel the insanity in the air as I hold the doorknob. I don't know what to expect this time, what will lie beyond this door? The door rattles as my hand shakes through my leather glove. Hesitant thoughts flood from my brain; I exhale and open the door. Jean's room looks like a crime scene from _CSI MIAMI_, broken glass and prescription bottles are scattered across the carpet, and I can see floral wallpaper peeling off the walls and the television screen is flipping from children shows and static. A crimson fountain flows from the ceiling, and suddenly I am dying inside. I squeeze my eyes shut afraid of the horror that will before soon, I can hear her screaming from the chaos, which I can't seem to drown out. I open my eyes to see Jean's fiery red hair whipping through the air as the door behind me slams shut. I fallow the puddles of blood to the couch where my friend lays, plucking petals from a half dead daisy. She isn't screaming anymore, just restlessly struggling out of a straight jacket and breathing heavily. Yellow petals still drifting to the ground. I sit into the ripped rocking chair in front of her and longingly watch her. For what seems like year I sit in the awkward silence watching yellow flower petals float to the ground until Jean sits up and glares at me. Behind the tangled mess of red hair I can see two striking eyes fill with warmth and rage. But mostly fear. "I know you are somewhere in there Jean, and you must be terrified" I whisper brushing the hair away from her pale face. "Things are so different now" I say trying to untangle her hair enough to braid. "You aren't here and I feel like I am dying inside. I know I have Pyro and all, but I still feel so alone. Like a total outcast. And that's something to say, being a mutant. I really don't have anyone to talk to anymore; you were always the one who I could blabber mindless jibber jabber to and feel perfectly comfortable. I could tell you anything, and I always felt like you understood. I have never had to keep secrets from you, not like I could though. You know EVERYTHING about me, why a hate and hid, why everyone calls me rogue, why the world sees my white hair. You know me, and my story. With of you, I was so comfortable in my skin, and accent," I laugh trying to get my glove out of the knots in her hair, without touching her. "It's not just that though. I am drowning in a sea of despair and loneliness is just the icing on the cake. Things are getting really bad. We aren't just getting egged anymore, we being segregated. I am worried what will happen to you, it's obvious you're not in your right mind now, and you're powerful. You've destroyed twelve different rooms and I have seen you break a door in half from fifty feet away. I hope the limits don't worsen. The limitations for mutants are already so terrifying. The senate keeps talking about registration laws and restrictions. Things are getting worse with everyday. Stores are using their rights to reject service to any mutants. What left of the house had to send Emma and I to the next county for groceries yesterday. As if the extra taxes weren't enough. It cost us over eighty dollars to get two cartons of milk, a loaf of bread, a couple rolls of toilet paper, and three boxes of off brand cereal. We are going to be broke before the years over. Even with everyone putting seventy something dollars every two weeks we are barely making rent at that piece of crap apartment, and food is a foreign topic. We get back from school and work at least one part times job and scrounge for foods in the woods. Then cram school work and sleep in the left over space. I found myself stealing robin eggs and climbing trees for a couple of pathetic sugar apples. You should have seen us on Sunday. Scott had caught a wild opossum, he kind of singed the face a little, and the entire house had a hoe down. We are like cavemen, with super powers… and pants. I am worried Marvel, things are getting bad. And Magneto isn't helping. He's creating mutant rebellions and starting this high strung gang full of vengeful mutants. Very powerful mutants, with A LOT of rage. It's getting pretty scary. They have already done some damage. They are calling mutants in by the dozen to come to _Genosha_ or join _The Brotherhood_. They are raiding small southern towns and unwilling dragging mutants away from their homes and families, and they aren't letting anything get in their way. They raided then burnt an entire town to the ground a few days ago. The Brotherhood is getting stronger every second and moving to the north. What am I suppose to do? I am afraid." I tell my friend tying back her scarlet hair in the best braid I could possibly do. "I really wish you would respond," I murmur under my breath as I pick up a broken tea cup from under the coach.

"It's late," I say glancing at the clock, "I have kept Pyro wait long enough. I will be back next week. Be good for Jean, please. Bye."I say solemnly walking to the door, wishing that Jean would somehow snap out of everything and be herself again.


	3. The Cure

**Chapter Three**

The car ride home is silent, except for the local news fading in and out of the static filled radio. This is expected. Pyro never knows quite what to say when I get back from being from Jean. Of course I understand why, what would he say? _Hey how was it talking to a crazy person? Did she spend the entire time throwing silver wear at the wall again?_ Or. _Oh hey, that must have been fun pouring out you guts to someone who will never actually respond. You must feel accomplished_. I guess I'm glad he doesn't say anything. This just ensures he can't say something to hurt me. Besides, his eyes tell me everything I want to know. Sympathy and understanding.

Through the broken sound of static I hear The_ Cure. Breaking new technology from NASA scientists which guarantees to restrict and eliminate all genetic malfunctions. This multimillion dollar vaccine has been tested on dozens of willful volunteers suffering from genetic malfunctions, and has shown spectacular results so far. Just twenty days after being injected, the mutants lost all uncommon abilities. No matter the magnitude of the mutation, all malfunction, gone. There has been to signs of harmful side effects shown in any case. Now all forty-seven of the mutants that were administered The Cure are able to live perfectly normal lives. And things just keep getting better, The US Senate has just voted on the administration laws and it's outstanding what we will do for our nation. The Cure will be administered at local hospitals around the country to all willing mutants. Now, things seem to looking out for mutants, now, back to you Jim. _

"No, they wouldn't," I murmur in shock, looking over to Pyro who seems to be sharing my surprise. "I don't know, I doubt it. There must be a lot of work and money in this. It's irrational," Pyro says trying to reassure himself.

"That's what we said about the boundaries laws, and look at how far we have drive to get home. It takes over an hour to get to school. We can't safely live inside city limits. Pyro, this happened despite our beliefs, forcing the cure could also happen. Do you hear how they talk about us? To them we are monsters. We are trouble and they would do anything to get rid of us. In this case money will be no barrier. "

"Maybe not."

"If they have their way we will all be dead before the year is over."

"That won't happen. We will be okay."

"How can you be so sure? Professor X and Storm, are gone. What makes you so sure we aren't next."

"I don't know for sure, but I do know we aren't going down without a fight."

"No John, fights just cause problems. Look at Jean, she might as well be with Storm. She's long gone, and there ain't nothin' that can fix it! And soon enough we will all be sitting right next to her because I didn't do anything! Because I woke in flames and did nothing! They could all be okay, my best friend would be sitting here right with us instead of wailing in the nuthouse! And it is all my fault!" I feel myself scream on the verge of tears. "Rogue," he whispers. I can hear the pain in his voice. "You cou…" he sighs. "Don't, I know you mean well, just don't. Not now." I half growl, trying to swallow the tears lodged in my throat. The top of the apartment peers of the wall of oak trees along the road. "Give me my keys later." I choke slamming the car behind me and running inside. The front door is wide open, leaving a clear path to the stair case.

The stairs have never seemed to long and abrasive, and the hallway to my room, so torturous. Then I finally collapse on my bed, when Kitty comes sweeping in, peeling of her waitress uniform and throwing it all over the room. Words like exhausted and horrible, flood out of her mouth, then miraculously turn to Bobby and perfect. Kitty. Kitty, my roommate. Kitty, should be blonde. Kitty, uses retro slang randomly in the middle of a sentence. Kitty, could win an Olympic medal in talking. Kitty, snores loudly. Kitty, my friend? All true, but puzzling facts, which so how enable me to collect myself to organize my unstable emotions.


	4. Guess Who's Back?

**Chapter Four**

The dusty dirt road curls around trees in so many directions it feels like walking on a life-size jigsaw puzzle. It is extremely unfortunate that this puzzle is so unsightly, but maybe I am wrong. The view from above maybe jaw dropping gorgeous, a kaleidoscope of colors, but down here, in the real world, there are too many weeds to be anything but ugly. Maybe that is the world. Mars may see a land of peace, and Earth sees war.

_Smack_. I loose my train of thought and fall into the arms of a foreign face. Wolverine. "Hey, kiddo," He laughs, helping me to my feet. "Logan!" I scream, and throw my arms around his neck. "What are doing back here? I thought you were gone for good after the mansion fell." I question excitedly, as more of my southern accent starts to show. "I was heading south, so I thought I might come to check up on you kids. See how you are doing with all this crap." "I am glad ya did," I smile, and reluctantly pull away from the only warmth I am not afraid to get close to. "So how are you doing my southern bell?" he laughs, stepping back and flashing me a toothy grin.

"I'm sharin' a room with Shadow Cat. How do you think I am doing?"

"That bad? I might have to take you with me when I leave."

"No. I am just kiddin' it ain't that bad, living with her. But livin' with these laws really _sucks_!"

"That's part of the reason I'm here. I've been talking to some people up north, and I think I might be able to put us mutts on the map."

"How?"

"I can't tell you quiet yet. But I am having a friend met me here in a few days. You can't tell anyone yet."

"Why? What are you plottin'?"

"That doesn't matter. Can I trust you?"

"Is this _visitor_ going to hurt any of us?"

"No. She's just coming to talk. The rest of the stunt won't fallow through until we talk to you kids, which is why I need you to keep this a secret."

"_Stunt?_"

"Come on kid. Don't make me sorry I to..."

"Fine, but if _she _tries any stupid stunts. If _she _puts any of us in danger. I don't think any of us could forgive you, not even me. And I am not a kid." I choke. "Lighten up kiddo. Keep this hush hush and everything will be fine. Now, why don't you give me a little tour of your living quarters." Logan laughs lightly, putting his arm around my shoulder. Unsure if his comment was a demand or failed attempt to lighten the mood, I slip out of his grasp and start to fallow the winding road back.

* * *

><p>"And this is home," I declare pushing open the main door of the apartment complex, "Mini Mansion, X2, Temporary Home, The X Cave, Fortress of Outcasts, Tenement. Call it whatever you wish, but we call it The Hideaway. I'm not quite sure why, I think Spyke started it, but that's what we call it. This is home," I almost joke, as the chaos of where I am living floods into my radar. The beat up couch we found at the junk yard, three bean bag chairs Emma and Kitty made in Skills for Living, and the beat up TV that Spyke, Toad, and Nightcrawler are crowded around. "You remember Toad right?" I say, gesturing to the green skinned mutant yelling and hoping in front of the TV. "He hasn't showered since the mansion burned down seven months ago. He claims it his way of mourning, but we all know it's because Storm hasn't threaten to <em>zap<em> him if he doesn't scrub the slime off his skin." I laugh. "Gross. I think tonight we might have to frognap him and see if he remembers what clean is." Wolverine murmurs watching Toad with sly eyes. "I get my ski mask. The blue one is Kurt and he is still the same shy hairy Scandinavian that he was before you left." I croak, trying to hold back my laughter. "The dark one, that's Evan, it's kind of a long story. Honestly I don't really know his story. He showed up on our doorstep four months ago pretty beaten up, and didn't talk until about a week ago. From what I can tell he nice enough, kind of weird, but something must have happened out there, and I'm worried about what might come. Anyways,we call him Spyke, cause he builds this shell of armor thing around his body and the armor is built out of this really strong spike thing, and he like shoots them out of his skin our something. I can't quiet explain it, but you get the picture. Right?" I ask, confusing myself.

A very puzzled look fades onto Wolverine's face. "No? Maybe not. I'll have him show you later. Sorry I confused you." I chuckle, still thinking of throwing Toad in the shower. "Hmmf…" Wolverine grunts. "Well that's the living room where most of us hang out when we are home. This way, to the kitchen." I laugh trying to shake off the perplexed look on his face. But I can't help but wondering what he thinking, fallowing me with his big brown eyes. "So, this is the kitchen, the oven, stove, microwave, fridge, cabinets with almost nothing in them, and of course our tribute to the Chinese culture table and pillowy chairs," gesturing awkwardly to the makeshift table in the middle of the kitchen. "And last but not least the only source of organization in this place. Drum roll please. The Wall. It's something Emma set up. Basically, they are just a collection of clipboards nailed to the wall giving this place some structure. The blue chart represents the amount of water we get and have used this week. The purple is the food we gather, buy, and eat. The yellow one shows what chores we are suppose to do around here, make dinner, clean the bathroom, sweep, get groceries, ect. The green is the amount of money we have each brought in for the house. The orange basically our schedule, it's how we manage work, school, and anything else we need to do. Also it helps keep track of everyone in case of an emergency. And most importantly the bright red one, is how much more money we need, what needs to be fix, and other important things." I pronounce almost excitedly. "Sieg Heil!" Logan shouts and salutes. "It might be a little overbearing and controlling at times, but where would we be without it? Besides Em needs something to keep her busy."I murmur, wishing I hadn't said anything about Frost. "Why?" he asks, now interested in the infomation that I should have kept to myself. "Well she kind of lost it once the mansion was announced as housing for mutants. You know how she was one of the ones who decided to go to public school instead of study at X mansion with the rest of us? And there she was homecoming queen, honors student, class president, varsity tennis and swim captain, yearbook editor threes in a row, and head cheerleader? Well when we all became outcast she got kicked out of everything, and just needed something to help her cope, I guess. Once she pulled herself out of her "diamond state", she found us descent housing, helped us organize what we could salvage from the mansion, weather we kept or sold it for some second hand stuff, and got us on a budget with the money from the bank account until we got things stable. We couldn't get along without her, and she knows that. Cause she enjoys picking through our minds." I laugh, remembering the many times she confronted me about a nasty thought or secret. "So she went crazy like Jean?" he asks and I cringe.

"Oh, I forgot sorry. What's down here?" he asks walking into the connecting hall. "It's where we sleep. Three floors, four closets I mean rooms, and one bathroom per floor. Except for this floor because of the kitchen and living room there are only two rooms and a bathroom, and of course as you can see, the stairs are at the end of the hall. In the room to you right is Emma's or Ice Queen's and Dazzler's slash Ali Blaire's room. Listens to 1970's music, wears a lot of glitter, blinds people with bright light that shoots out of her body, and can make holograms? Remember her?" I murmur irately. A shirtless blonde with majestic angel wings flexes the muscles in his abs as he marches down the stairs into the room adjacent to Ali's. "That Warren, Angel, he moved into the mansion a few weeks before it burned down. I don't know if you met him. Flys. As you saw quite the playboy. He's Kelly's son, keeps to himself most of the time, he works hard, but really arrogant and kinda a jerk. I'm not that fond of him. Oh! And in case you havn't guessed he has a lot of spite for his dad." I cough. "Who wouldn't?"I jump, hearing a startling voice echo from the darkness of Angel's room. "He want us dead, his own son. Dead!" Warren roars in anger, now stepping into the hall. "Angel I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I stutter before he cuts me off.

"For me to hear?"

"No, I…"

"I heard what you said. I hear what you all say. "

"I don't talk about you like that."

"I heard you."

"No. I was just introducing Logan to the gang. A little tour since he's back."

"Back? Why let him back? He's traitor."

"No he's not! You two-faced rotten little son of a…"

"Relax freckles. I understand what he means," Wolverine murmurs stepping between Warren and I. "I'm done," Warren laughs throwing his hands in the air and leaning against the wall, "So Imma _Playboy_?" he laughs again and flashes a memorizing smile. I grip the glove off my hand and throw it on the ground. "Come on my Southern Mona Lisa, let's slip into my room and bind ourselves with the shackles of _love._" He is practically howling now, and fist millimeters from his face. Then, Wolverine wraps his arms around me and drags me down the hall to the stairs. "I hope you and your self absorbed personality falls into a crater in Siberia and freezes off those stupid butterfly wings of yours!" I shout over his thunderous laughter.

"Which one is your room?" Logan inquires, snickering slightly. "Ah can get there myself." I almost growl and stomp to the third floor. A very worried face of Emma stands in front of the stairs. "Move," I cough. "What's going on?" She whispers, deeply concerned. "Wolverine's back!" I yell then slam the door to my room, knowing Frost is now listening to my every thought.-


End file.
